Finding Harry Potter
by JBS-Forever
Summary: "Dear Sirius, everyone is always saying that I can write them if I'm in trouble. Well…I'm in trouble." The search for Harry Potter begins. (Warning: This story contains a lot of abuse and is rated for such. Please don't read if abuse stories bother you.)
1. Chapter 1

**I was suffering from some major writer's block and this happened. The story idea popped into my head and I spent the better part of my weekend writing the entire thing. I was going to post it all as one chapter, but then decided not to. This will be a short story with only about 5 chapters (it ends on the 5th chapter right now, but I might change it to be 6 chapters). I'll probably add a new chapter every few days, but I guess it depends on how long it takes everyone to read what's already there. Just give me, like, a heads up or something about when you're ready for the next chapter.**

**Uh..yeah...so...here we go.**

**Enjoy? I really don't know what this is.**

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Harry Potter wasn't stupid. He was a lot of other things–stubborn, prideful, a little short for his age–but he was not stupid.

No, he was unprepared.

If Harry had his wand, he would have hexed his uncle into oblivion. He didn't care about laws, or getting expelled, or even if the entire neighborhood woke up to watch the house go down in flames. Harry wasn't stupid–he knew he didn't have to take this abuse. Knew that once Dumbledore saw the bruises and the cuts he would never let him come back to this awful house.

At least…he hoped so. Hoping was all he could do right now until his uncle released him. He really was too big for the cupboard under the stairs, but with his hands bound behind him, he had folded into the small space quite easily. He didn't have much room to struggle, and he had been weakly twisting his hands together, trying to break the rope to no avail. He had been unprepared.

"Vernon, you can get him now," Petunia's voice rang from somewhere down the hall, echoing in the dark around him. "Take him upstairs to Dudley's old room again. I don't want to hear him while we're eating."

A low rumble shook underneath Harry, and before he could brace himself, the cupboard door was unlocked, and he was yanked out, sent tumbling to the ground with a painful _thump_. He moaned.

"Get up!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. Harry breathed out slowly, closing his eyes.

"I can't get up without my hands," he said between clenched teeth. Vernon leaned low and grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair, yanking him up.

"Don't back talk to me, boy," he hissed. Harry cried out, nearly falling as his uncle released him. A fat hand circled around his arm and started dragging him–down the hall and up the stairs, ruthless as Harry tripped and stumbled.

"I don't want to hear a word coming from you," Vernon said as they came to a halt. He turned Harry around and the younger boy felt him slashing at the rope with something sharp. A few seconds later, blood rushed back to his fingertips, and his arms dropped to his sides in pain. Vernon shoved him into the room and locked the door behind him.

Submerged in darkness, Harry blinked a few times and flicked on the lights, letting the warm glow flood his room. He sighed and rubbed at his raw wrists. Hedwig hooted from her cage.

"I'm all right, girl," Harry said softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand and grabbed one of her treats.

"Here you go," he murmured, slipping it to her. She took it greedily as Harry collapsed back on the bed. He sighed again.

"You know, this isn't where I thought I'd be right now," he said to the ceiling. "Things were supposed to be different. I'm supposed to be with Sirius. And Cedric…" His throat started to tighten and he swallowed hard. "What happened to us, Hedwig?"

Hedwig hooted again, and Harry smiled.

"We're gonna get out of here, girl. Just a few months. We can do it." He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. "We can do it."

XxX

"_Kill the spare."_

"_NO!" Harry yelled._

_He was running–at least, he thought he was running. He felt the wind in his hair, and his feet were moving, but he didn't seem to be going anywhere. He could see Cedric's body. It was only a few meters away, but he couldn't reach it, no matter how hard he tried._

"_Mum," he cried desperately. "Mum, he's killed him! Help me! Help me reach him! Please!"_

_He was met with a cruel, high pitched laugh._

"GET UP!"

A sharp pain across his face brought him back to reality. He opened his eyes, feeling the hard wooden floor underneath his fingers.

"Wha–" he looked around dizzily, but without his glasses, he couldn't make out anything. A hand grabbed his hair and yanked him to his feet, making him cry out the way he always did.

"I said I didn't want to hear a word!" Uncle Vernon yelled. "Now you've gone and woke up the entire house with your screaming!"

Harry gaped at him. "I–I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough! If you're not going to be quiet, I will make you!" He released Harry, pushing him back a few steps. "Put your hands behind your back."

Harry moved away from him, shaking his head. "I won't make any more noise. I'm sorry."

"Do as I say!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, and his voice shook the walls around them. Harry was getting ready to run, because anywhere would have been better than being here, but before he could make his brain work, a strong force sent him crumbling to the ground. His eye throbbed painfully.

In the split second that followed, Vernon was yanking Harry's hands behind him and tying them tightly together. Harry struggled uselessly again the larger man and Vernon pulled him up by his hair again, throwing him onto the bed.

Harry rolled over in time to hear something ripping. His eyes widened in horror.

"Uncle Vernon, please," he gasped. "Please, I won't make any noise. Please don't do this."

But Uncle Vernon was already next to Harry, and no matter how hard Harry struggled and tried to fight against him, it was useless. Vernon held his head still and smoothed the duct tape over his lips, sealing his mouth shut. Harry moaned in protest.

"Good," Vernon said. "Now we won't have to listen to you all night."

He turned to leave and Harry desperately tried to call out to him, but his pleas transformed into a garbled mess of moans. Vernon slammed the door closed behind him, locking it again.

Harry took a deep breath through his nose. _Don't panic_, he told himself, _Breathe. Just breathe. Panicking will do no good. Don't panic._

But as much as Harry repeated the words in his mind, it did nothing to still his racing heart. He closed his eyes when they filled with tears and willed himself not to cry at a time when he couldn't reach his face.

Hedwig hooted anxiously, but Harry couldn't respond to her. He fumbled with the rope, trying to slip a hand free, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to get out.

He wasn't stupid.

XxX

Harry didn't sleep. He stayed awake for hours, writhing against his restraints and trying to scrape the tape off his mouth with anything he could reach. He wasn't sure how long it took him to finally give up the fight. He rolled onto his stomach in defeat, arms pinned awkwardly behind him, and tried to relax.

He thought of Sirius–wondered what he and Remus were doing now. United friends like that were a force to be reckoned with, and those two could dig up trouble anywhere they were. They both had aged well beyond their years, but there was something Harry noticed about them when they were together. They were like teenagers again.

The sound of doors opening and closing pulled Harry out of his thoughts. He perked up, anxiously awaiting his own door to open. It took a few minutes, but finally the sound of the lock slipping back filled his ears, and Harry made out the blurry form of Aunt Petunia entering the room.

"Well, at least you're already awake," she muttered bitterly. She crossed the space between them, and Harry felt her saw at his bindings.

"I wish he would stop wasting this rope," she said. "He should have just used the tape."

Harry's shoulders were aching painfully, and when his hands were finally free, it took him a moment to be able to use his arms.

"Clean yourself up and come downstairs," Aunt Petunia said. "You need to get started on breakfast before Dudley wakes up."

Harry wasn't sure if she expected a response, but she disappeared from the room as he slowly pushed himself up. Breathing deep from his nose, he fumbled with sweaty hands to peel the tape off his mouth, wincing as it pulled his skin. He licked his dry lips and grabbed his glasses, sliding them on his face.

"Gross," he muttered, dropping the tape to the floor. Shakily, he rose to his feet and managed to get something for Hedwig to eat. She hooted happily, but Harry shushed her quickly.

"Be quiet," he whispered. "The door is open and if Uncle Vernon hears you he'll make you leave."

Something dawned on Harry, and he paused for a long moment. "Wait a minute," he said. "He'll make you leave."

Glancing quickly at the door, he dropped to his knees and dove under his bed, prying open the loose floorboard which hid his stash of school things. His heart ached at his missing wand, but he grabbed a piece of parchment paper and resurfaced.

He scribbled a note quickly and rolled the paper into a small bundle. This was his only chance. He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg.

"I'll be back up after breakfast, okay?" he said, rising to his feet again. "Then I'm gonna need you to do everything I've always told you not to."

Harry could swear he saw Hedwig smile.

He ducked into the bathroom to relieve himself and try to smooth down his unruly hair. He looked awful, like he had been crying all night, and a dark purple bruise was swelling around his eye. A quick glance had him thinking his wrists were bleeding, but upon closer inspection he realized he had burned most of the skin off as he struggled.

He didn't want to look anymore. He splashed a handful of cold water on his face and hurried downstairs.

"Start on the bacon," Aunt Petunia demanded as he entered the kitchen. He nodded quickly and moved to the stove.

For a moment he worked quietly, but then he glanced back at his aunt when she didn't leave, surprised to find that she was cooking along side him. Had she felt some remorse for him because of what Vernon did? Harry wasn't sure.

When the two men of the family came thumping down the stairs sometime later, Harry helped Aunt Petunia set the table and then he disappeared back upstairs, claiming he wasn't hungry. He wasn't, really. The night before had left his stomach in a tight ball, and Harry just wanted to run and run until his legs couldn't move anymore.

He pushed open his bedroom door and moved toward Hedwig.

"Okay, girl," he said, dipping his hand into her bag of treats. "I need you to be as loud as possible."

Hedwig hooted and Harry held one of her treats out of her reach, teasing her with it. "Come on, I know you have more than that."

Hedwig flapped her wings, hooting loudly. Harry kept going, making her angry enough that her hoots soon become shrill like.

"BOY!"

He grinned. He gave her the treat and slipped his hand further between the cage bars to stroke her head. "Good girl," he murmured.

He heard his uncle thundering up the stairs and he sat down on his bed, pretending like he was tying his shoe. Vernon appeared in his doorway a second later, his face purple.

"What have I told you about keeping that thing quiet?!" he yelled. Harry dropped his foot to the ground.

"She's an owl, Uncle Vernon," he said calmly. "She needs to fly. If you let me let her out, she'd stop making so much noise."

Uncle Vernon laughed harshly. "And have you send messages to those freaky little friends of yours? I think not."

"I'll send her away," Harry said. "To Hermione's house. She'll keep Hedwig until school starts again."

"Fine," Uncle Vernon snapped. "But you will take her out right now. I'm going to watch you the entire time. I want no funny business."

Harry nodded and rose to his feet. He grabbed Hedwig's caged and lead the way down the stairs and out the front door, Vernon following close behind. As his uncle watched from the doorway, Harry opened the cage door.

"Find Sirius," he whispered. "He'll know what to do."

Hedwig hooted, Harry's secret note strapped to her leg, and took off into the sky. Harry watched her with a feeling of dread. He hoped he hadn't just sent his last connection to the wizard world away with no chance of being found.

"Get back in here!" Uncle Vernon hissed. Harry sighed and turned around, retreating up the steps. Vernon grabbed him roughly by his shirt, slamming the door closed.

"You're going to be punished for this," he said. Harry tried to back out of his grasp.

"What did I do?" he asked. But it didn't really matter what Vernon said, because Harry knew he was only looking for some kind of excuse to hurt him.

And he was going to _hurt_ him. Bad.

XxX

Miles away, Sirius was waking from his nap to the sound of something crashing downstairs. He sat up in a panic, trying to clear his head.

"Remus?" he called. He was met with no response.

Untangling himself from his covers, he stumbled to his feet and snatched his wand off his nightstand, hurrying from the room.

"Moony?" he called as he bounded down the stairs. "Are you all right?"

He was met with a sigh. "I'm fine, Sirius."

Sirius's pace slowed as he rounded on the kitchen and stepped into the room. Remus was bent low, picking up pieces of a porcelain bowl that had shattered and sent shards spiraling out around his feet. Above him, the kitchen window was open, and an owl was perched on the frame, waiting patiently.

"What happened?" Sirius asked. He waved his wand, causing the broken pieces to disappear. Remus rose to his feet.

"Hedwig overestimated her landing space a little bit," Remus said, giving the owl a smile. "That's quite all right, though. She brought you a note."

"Oh, did she?" Sirius tossed his wand onto the counter and took the note from Remus as he held his hand out. "It's very small."

"I almost didn't see it," Remus said. "I wonder if we should send Harry more parchment. He might be running low."

Sirius unrolled the note, giving Remus an amused look. "You know, there's no address on this. How did you know it was for me? Did you read it?"

"Don't accuse me of such blasphemy," Remus said, taking a seat at the table. "I'm not too old to hex you."

"So, you did read it, then?"

"Of course not. But how many letters has Harry addressed to me?"

Sirius shrugged and sat down opposite of him. "I'm just going to assume you read it," he said, and then scanned over the small, messy writing.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

"Moony," he whispered.

"What is it?"

With shaking hands, he extended the note out to him. Remus cocked an eyebrow, taking the small paper from his palm.

"I thought I already read it?"

"I'm not joking," Sirius said. Remus's face fell, and he tore his gaze away to read the note.

**Dear Sirius,**

**Everyone is always saying that I can write them if I'm in trouble. Well…I'm in trouble. **

**Don't send Hedwig back. If will only make things worse. Please, Sirius…**

**Help me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Yay, chapter 2! Seems like most of you are ready for it :)**

**Hope you guys are liking this so far. Thanks for the reviews and favorites!**

**Enjoy.**

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"He didn't even sign it!" Sirius nearly yelled, pacing back and forth in the small space. "This is bad, Remus. This is very bad."

"I know," Remus said from where he was kneeled in front of the fireplace. "Just relax, will you? You're making my head spin."

"What if they've hurt him?" Sirius asked. Remus pulled a handful of soot from a purple colored bag and tossed it into the fireplace.

"Dumbledore," he called into the bright flames. "We need you." He pushed himself back on his heels and looked up at Sirius. "We'll get him out if they're hurting him, Padfoot."

"_If_?" Sirius demanded. "What other reason would he have written a letter like that? He's not a child. He wouldn't write for help if it wasn't something important. It's not like he got reprimanded for doing something he like stealing a cookie from the cookie jar–"

Remus rose to his feet in one swift motion and placed his hands on Sirius's shoulders, stilling him. "Sirius, please. I'm just as worried as you are. I know that Harry isn't a child, but there could be multiple reasons he needs help that don't involve him being hurt. Please just let me entertain the idea that he's all right."

Sirius sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. Before he could respond, there was a flash of light that made the pair turn, and Sirius watched as Dumbledore emerged from the fireplace, dusting ashes off his robes.

"You rang?" he asked pleasantly. Remus released Sirius with a nod.

"Give him the note, Padfoot," he said. Sirius bit his lip and looked down at the crushed letter in his hand. Shakily, he handed it over.

It was quiet for a long moment before Dumbledore spoke. "What is this?"

"It's a note from Harry," Remus said. "It arrived this afternoon with Hedwig."

Sirius finally looked up. Dumbledore's face was grave, and the sparkle usually present in the old man's eyes was gone, leaving behind an empty void.

Sirius felt like he was underwater–like he was drowning.

"Rest assured that Harry is in the safest place he can be," Dumbledore said. Sirius opened his mouth angrily, but Dumbledore rose a hand to silence him. "_However_, I will send someone to check on him and asses the situation."

"I'll do it, Albus," Remus said quickly. "Both Sirius and I are members of the Order. We're fully equipped to handle the situation."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well, although I suspect you would have gone anyway. Sirius, you must stay out sight. Do not forget that. I will check with Arabella and see if she's noticed anything suspicious. Please contact me as soon as you come back."

Remus nodded, but Sirius was already dragging him away.

XxX

"Now remember, Sirius, no magic inside the house," Remus said. "This place is surrounded by wards, and any magic will alert the ministry. They'll think it was Harry, and we won't be able to back him up. You're not allowed to be here."

Sirius sighed and ran a hand back through his long hair, glancing around the quiet neighborhood. He had refused to come as Padfoot, because he knew he wouldn't be able to transform once he was close enough to the house, so Remus had taken it upon himself to make Sirius look as normal as possible. He had been drilling Sirius since they left.

"I know, Moony. Stop talking to me like I'm a child," Sirius said.

"I'm not entirely convinced you're _not_ a child," Remus muttered. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs as they started up the pathway of number four, Privet Drive. He drummed his fingers nervously against his thigh and Remus's soft voice floated to his ears again. "Remain calm, all right?"

Sirius nodded. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest, and he knew Remus could hear it even without his werewolf senses. He knocked on the door.

There was no response. Not even a flicker of someone acknowledging the pair outside. Sirius knocked again, this time louder, and waited for a brief moment before the anxiety rising in his chest spilled out from his mouth.

"I don't feel good about this," he said, but Remus was already drawing his wand from his robes.

"Alohomora," he muttered. The door popped open with a soft click. Cautiously, Sirius drew his own wand and followed Remus into the house.

"Hello?" Remus called. "My name is Remus Lupin. I'm a teacher at Hogwarts. Is there anyone home? We're looking for Harry."

Silence rang out after Remus's words, and Sirius looked around the dark place. He knew this wasn't right. Harry had written him before and told him that the Dursley house was rarely quiet. His cousin Dudley was normally planted in front of the television, stuffing his face with whatever food he could get his hands on.

But that television wasn't on now, and there was no plump child sitting in front of it.

"Maybe they went out," Remus said. Sirius shook his head.

"No, something isn't right. I can feel it. Where's Harry's room?"

"Upstairs, I believe," Remus said, knitting his eyebrows together in concern. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Just follow me," Sirius muttered.

With wands out and at the ready, they both proceeded cautiously up the stairs. The silence was growing heavy, and it unnerved Sirius, who already felt like his skin was crawling off his body. He stopped in front of a room whose door had way too many locks on it.

"Is this is?" he asked. Remus shrugged.

"I'm not sure."

But Sirius was. He pushed open the door slowly and then stumbled back into Remus, nearly losing his footing. He could smell it as strong as anything he'd ever smelt, and he knew Remus could, too.

Blood.

Remus steadied him before he stepped further into the room, looking around. The place was filled with the remains of broken toys and dingy clothes, and the only way Sirius knew for sure that Harry had lived here was the picture of Lily and James that sat on the small table next to the bed. They were dancing– laughing and holding each other like they had no worries in the world.

"Oh, Merlin," Remus muttered, snapping Sirius back to reality. He stepped forward to where Remus was kneeled.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you all right?"

Without looking back, Remus raised his hand, and Sirius leaned close to examine the object in his palm.

"Rope?" he asked, his heart sinking. "You don't think they…"

"Harry's blood is on it," Remus said softly. "And there is tape on the ground. I can smell his breath on it."

Sirius was shaking his head, backing away from his friend in horror. "No, it's not possible. It's not," he said. "How could he write us if he was tied up?"

"I doubt they kept him like that for long," Remus said, and Sirius could hear his voice shaking. Sirius's eyes slid to the bed, desperately searching for anything to prove Remus wrong. He knew there was nothing, though. The Dursley's had been abusing Harry.

He felt bile rise in his throat. "Where is he?" he asked angrily. "Why isn't he here?"

"Is it possible the Dursley's took Harry with them wherever they went? Maybe they thought if they left him alone he would do something."

"Well, they clearly don't have a problem restraining him to keep him from _getting into trouble_," Sirius spat. "I doubt they would have taken him anywhere." He collapsed down onto the bed, burying his face into his hands. "He must be so scared, Moony. This never would have happened if Lily and James were here."

Remus sighed deeply. "Yes, but they aren't here, and that means we need to protect Harry now. We've failed long enough, Padfoot. We need to fix this."

"How?" Sirius asked desperately, looking up again. "We don't know when they're coming back, or where they are."

Remus chewed lightly on his bottom lip and looked around the room. "Where does he keep all his school stuff?"

"It's downstairs," Sirius said. "His uncle locks it in the cupboard. He–oh! Wait." He scrambled from the bed, dropping to his hands and knees.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked as he dove under the mattress. Sirius ran his hand along the floorboards, searching for the one that didn't fit.

"Harry hides some of his stuff under a loose floorboard," he said. "He told me about it once because that's where he hides the invisibility cloak. Can you give me some light, Remus? I can't see a bloody thing."

Sirius felt Remus somewhere close to his feet and his vision was flooded with a bright light. He swore, waiting for the yellow dots to disappear from his eyes, before he started his search again.

Almost immediately, he felt a blow to his stomach.

There, scratched firmly into the loose floorboard he was looking for, was the most horrific message he'd ever seen, the words cut off before they could be finished.

**HOTR. HELP M**

XxX

"What does 'HOTR' mean?"

"We're not sure, Kingsley. We haven't been able to figure it out."

Tonks leaned forward onto the table, her bright pink hair fading into a dark purple color. "How do we know the Dursley's aren't just out? Maybe they went for a meal, or out on holiday."

"They're not allowed to just pick up and go on a vacation when Harry is there," Sirius snapped. "They'd be taking him away from his protection. They would have left him."

A thin line appeared between Tonks's eyebrows, and she glanced to Remus, as if looking for reassurance. He caught her gaze.

"It took hours for Harry's letter to get to us, and that was around dinner time yesterday," Remus said gently. "If they had just gone out for something to eat, they would have been back by now. That's why we called the Order together. Arabella says that none of the neighbors have Harry. We need to figure out where they could have taken him."

Molly made a noise somewhere in the back of her throat. She dabbed at her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice came out shaking. "And you're sure they were…abusing him?"

Remus nodded. "Very. Both Sirius and I could smell his blood when we walked into his room. And there was…other evidence. Sirius saw the message under Harry's bed."

"Oh, poor boy," Molly said, a fresh set of tears pooling in her eyes. Arthur rested a hand on top of hers. His voice was much calmer when he spoke, but Sirius could see the tight lines around his mouth.

"So you think he got pulled away before he could finish his message?"

Sirius balled his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. He barely noticed the pain. All he could imagine was Harry frantically scratching a message under the bed and then his uncle grabbing him by the ankles, pulling him away kicking and screaming. He imagined Harry clawing at the ground, trying to free himself from his uncle's strong hold.

Remus reached for his hand under the table. "We think so. He got the majority of it out," he said, carefully prying Sirius's fingers free of their grip.

"But what does it mean?" Tonks asked.

"Maybe it's something that sounds similar," Kingsley suggested. "What sounds like 'HOTR'?"

"Stop, Padfoot," Remus murmured under the voices of everyone else, letting go of his hand. "Your heartbeat is driving me insane."

"Hoater?" Arthur said, but then shook his head. "No, that's not a word, is it? Hotel?"

"Hotel R? Is that something?"

"Wait." Molly's tone caused a silence to fall over everyone. She rose to her feet, as though it was the only way she could demand everyone's attention, and then turned to her husband. "Where did they take Harry when the letters came?"

It wasn't Arthur who answered, but Kingsley. "They took him to a hotel and then to some shack."

"A shack?" Molly asked. "Or a hut?"

Sirius frowned, looking around the table at everyone who seemed to understand something he was missing. "What're you talking about?"

Arthur rose to his feet and snatched a large piece of parchment from the center of the table. He leaned over the paper, dipping his quill into the blank ink.

"When Harry was eleven, the Dursley's wouldn't let him see his letter from Hogwarts," he said, scribbling away quickly. "They tried destroying the letter and blocking the mail slot, but they kept coming. They finally decided to take Harry out of the house and see if the letters would stop. They took him to a hotel, and the owls found him. So Vernon decided that isolating him would make the letters stop coming and they took a boat out to this little hut in the middle of the sea. The letters came addressed specially to where they were."

"But what's that got to do with anything?" Sirius asked.

"It's possible that 'HOTR' stands for 'Hotel Railview,' which is where they first tried to hide Harry. "But…" Arthur slid the paper forward so he could see.

**HOTR. Hut-on-the-Rocks.**

XxX

Harry fumbled with his thin blanket, trying desperately to get warm. The floor was cold and hard underneath him, and his uncle had decided he wasn't going to start a fire in fear that Harry would somehow manage to burn the place down while they slept. Everyone had been given extra blankets, but Harry had only managed to get a sheet and a lumpy pillow.

He was much too relieved when his uncle had tied his hands in front of him instead of behind him. Harry knew Vernon was worried that he would try to steal the boat they had taken in to the old hut, and he knew Harry wouldn't be able to paddle away without using his hands. Harry wasn't stupid, but he had considered it.

He sighed and looked at the door. The moment he turned eleven, a giant was bursting through that door, changing his life forever. Everything should have gotten better. How did it get worse?

_I hope you find me_, Harry thought miserably. _Before it's too late._


	3. Chapter 3

"Should we contact Dumbledore?"

"Maybe we should split up."

"Wait–"

"Right, half of us to the hotel, half of us to the shack."

"How should we get there?"

"If someone finds Harry, bring him back here immediately. We can assess the situation better from here."

"Wait, listen–"

"Shouldn't we take him straight to St. Mungo's?"

"I think we take him straight to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey can attend him. He'll be safer there."

"WAIT!"

Kingsley's voice boomed out around them, shaking the walls. Faces turned in his direction.

"How do we know the message isn't old?" he asked. There was a moment of silence that fell over them, making Sirius's adrenaline fade. He shook his head numbly.

"What?"

Kingsley sighed. "How do we know the message wasn't from when he was eleven?"

"What do you mean?" Molly asked.

"They took him there when he was a child. What if he had scratched the message then in the hopes that whoever was sending him the letters would see it?"

The silence grew louder. Sirius felt like his heart was exploding. "No," he said. "It was new. I could tell. There wasn't any dirt or dust in the marks. And Harry didn't have a reason to be under his bed then. He used that loose floorboard when he got older to hide his magical belongings."

"He didn't live in that room very long before they tried to hide him," Remus added. "And regardless, Harry is being abused by them. This is the only clue we have. It can't hurt to look."

Kingsley rose to his feet, nodding. "All right. Let's split up. How should we do it?"

"Sirius, Arthur, and I will go check the hut," Remus said. "Tonks, Kingsley, and Molly will go check the hotel. If anything goes wrong, send a message to one of us. If you find Harry, take him straight to Madam Pomfrey. We'll let Dumbledore figure out what to do from there."

"And I don't care how fine he says he is," Sirius chimed in. "Take him to the hospital wing, even if he looks okay. He _will_ pretend he's fine, no matter how hurt he is."

Everyone nodded.

XxX

"Why didn't we just Apparate straight inside?" Sirius muttered. The waves crashed around them, flooding Sirius's ears with a loud roaring sound. A second later, an icy blast of water hit his face.

"Do you know how hard it was to even just get out here?" Remus asked, pulling his robes around himself. "Now hush."

"You're not going to knock, are you?" Arthur asked. "I don't really think we need to be polite."

Remus shook his head. "Alohomora," he said, waving his wand passed the thick wooden door. He pushed it open slowly, turning back.

"Wands at the ready," he said. Sirius and Arthur raised their wands and followed him into the run-down hut.

The door closed behind them with a strong gust of wind, effectively muting the loud sounds. Sirius looked around cautiously. There were blankets thrown over the shabby couch and on the floor, like people had been sleeping here not long before Sirius arrived. The place was dark, though, and Sirius couldn't see anyone.

"I'll check the bedroom," Arthur said, disappearing from their sight. Sirius dropped his wand in defeat. He turned to Remus with wide eyes.

"He's not here," he said brokenly. "Why isn't he here, Moony? He left us the clue."

"All clear," Arthur called. Remus lowered his wand, sighing.

"Maybe he's at the hotel," he said. Arthur came back to them with a look of disgust.

"Is this how muggles like to spend their time? This place is a mess."

"I don't understand why they're running from us," Sirius said. "How do they know we're following them?"

Remus moved further into the hut, peering into the bathroom. "Maybe they don't. Maybe they are just paranoid. They probably realized Harry sent out a letter with Hedwig, so they thought we'd come back to check on him. They're probably scared. They don't want to stay in one place too long because if someone is following them, they'll be found."

"But why take Harry with them?"

"So he can't tell us where they are."

"Can I chime in?" Arthur asked. Remus glanced back at him.

"Of course, Arthur."

"What if Harry told them we were looking for them?"

Sirius frowned. "Why would he do something like that?"

"To threaten them," Arthur said. "To scare them. I mean, I would do it if I were his age and I had relatives who were terrified of magic. I would tell them that wizards were coming for me because I would think it would scare them and they'd leave me alone until they got there."

"But it backfired," Remus said softly as he returned. "So now the Dursley's think wizards are tracking them everywhere and they're going to keep moving Harry around until they find someplace where they are safe."

Sirius's heart was thumping loudly in his ears. He inhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes, turning on his heel. He moved to take a step forward, needing to be doing something, but suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, yanking him back.

"Sirius, wait."

Sirius turned to Arthur, his eyebrows narrowing in confusion. "What is it?"

"Look, there." Arthur released him and pointed down to where a mound of dirt on the floor had been disturbed. Sirius leaned closer and realized someone had traced letters into the mess.

A message.

"What does it say?" Remus asked.

"Six. Gone. HP."

XxX

Remus rubbed his temples. "Okay," he said again. "So they left at six this morning, which means we only missed them by a few hours. But there was no clue this time."

"He might not have known where they were going," Arthur said. Sirius slammed his hands down onto the table.

"Merlin's beard," he snapped. "Why can't we just track him? He still has the Trace on him, doesn't he?"

"He's not doing any magic, Sirius," Remus said gently. "The Trace won't work if we can't detect him."

Sirius rounded on Remus angrily, feeling his blood boiling under his skin. "Can you stop being so calm about this?" he nearly yelled. "This is Lily and James's son, for Merlin's sake! _We're_ supposed to take care of him! And now he's hurt and he's missing and we have no idea in the world where he could have gone!"

Remus's face remained calm. He looked at Sirius the way he had when they were teenagers and Sirius had spent a solid week in the library trying to find a cure for him. "You don't need to yell at me, Padfoot," he said. "I'm just as upset as you are, but you know what will happen if I lose my calm. I'm terrified for Harry, and I wish I knew where he was, but I don't. And we need to rationally figure this out in order to help him."

Sirius stared at him for a long moment. The anger in his bones was dissolving, leaving behind a feeling of complete emptiness. Feeling weak, he sank down on the couch and buried his face into his hands. "Sorry," he murmured.

"It's all right," Remus said. Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, making Sirius glance up at him.

"Can I suggest something?"

"Sure," Sirius said with a shrug.

"We don't know where Harry is now, which means we're out of clues," Arthur said. "But there's still a way to find him."

"What way?"

"Muggles find lost children sometimes by making an announcement over the television. That means that people all over can see that a child is missing and look out for them."

Sirius frowned, rubbing his forehead. "You're saying we should send out an alert over muggle news?"

"He's got a good idea," Remus said. "The Dursley's are traveling through muggle towns. Why not have muggles look for Harry? If they see him pass through anywhere, we might be able to find him."

"Do those things work?" Sirius asked. Arthur nodded energetically.

"From what I've read, they work a lot."

Sirius jumped to his feet. "Someone contact Dumbledore."

XxX

"Keep your head down and don't say anything to anyone. You hear me?"

Harry nodded. Dudley's oversized clothes were swallowing him, and the hood Uncle Vernon had yanked over his head hid most of his face, falling just above his eyes. He considered running–considered grabbing anyone he could and telling them to get him help. But he still had no way to connect to the wizard world. And Uncle Vernon would lie. And everyone would believe him.

"That's him," a voice whispered as he passed, sandwiched between Vernon and Petunia, Dudley waddling excitedly a step in front of them.

Harry lifted his head slightly, looking around.

"Look, it's him," a girl whispered. Harry caught her eye. She was young, probably somewhere in her twenties, standing with a man who looked like he could have been her boyfriend. They both were staring at him with wide eyes, and Harry could only watch in confusion as he passed.

Everyone was looking at him, whispering in hushed tones to each other. Harry saw people in stores on phones, watching him and talking quickly like they were nervous. It seemed like the whole city was slowing down around them.

"What did you do?" Uncle Vernon hissed. Harry shook his head.

"I don't know what's happening."

He wondered if they had stumbled into a wizard heavy part of whatever town they were in–he wasn't exactly sure where they were, but something seemed weird to him. No one was addressing him by name, or calling him any of the nicknames he had gained by surviving Voldemort's killing curse. They weren't looking at him in admiration the way people who normally whispered about him did. They looked scared.

"Boy, if I find out you're doing something…"

"I'm not doing anything," Harry whispered harshly. His uncle cuffed him on the back of his head.

"Don't talk back to me."

Harry didn't miss the glares that were shot at Uncle Vernon. He frowned.

What was going on?

XxX

"Have you heard anything?" Sirius asked as he burst into the kitchen. He was greeted with a wave of chaos–multiple people talking over each other, but none of them talking to Sirius in particular. Kingsley looked his way.

"What haven't we heard?"

Sirius frowned, stepping further into the room. "What're you talking about?"

"Everyone in Europe seems to have seen Harry," Remus muttered.

"What does that mean?"

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "It means the muggles think they're seeing Harry around. Or someone who looks like Harry."

"So how do we know which one is actually Harry?" Sirius asked. Before Remus could answer, a loud crash sounded from somewhere at the front of the house, startling everyone, and a moment later Tonks came running into the room.

"Are you all right?" Remus asked. Tonks nodded as she leaned forward to rest her hands on her legs, trying to catch her breath.

"He's been spotted," she gasped.

"Yes, we know," Kingsley said sarcastically. "We've heard all the calls."

Tonks shook her head. "No, he's actually been spotted. Ten minutes ago all these calls started flooding in from the same town with people saying they saw Harry with a large man, a plump child, and a scrawny looking woman."

"That's the Dursley's!" Sirius cried. "We need to go!"

"Dumbledore has already sent people that way," Tonks said. "But no one is really sure where they were going."

Remus leaned forward onto the table, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Surely someone must have seen them go somewhere. If they weren't driving, that means they had to be going someplace specifically."

"They're gone."

Sirius spun around at the calm voice, and a hush silence fell over the room. Dumbledore stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his sparking eyes sliding over everyone. No one seemed to move.

"What're you talking about?" Sirius breathed. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

"They stopped in at one of the shops, but no one would sell them anything," Dumbledore said. "The owner was trying to stall until authorities arrived, but the Dursley's figured out what was going on and they left."

Sirius growled, balling his hands into fists. "And no one stopped them? They just let them leave with Harry?"

"Do you know where they went?" Remus asked. Dumbledore shook his head, keeping his gaze on Sirius.

"Unfortunately, no. But they still have an alert out for him, so people will be watching."

"You don't think that's dangerous now that they know?" Sirius demanded. "They probably are blaming Harry for this!"

"Sirius–"

"And what about Voldemort?" Sirius didn't miss the flinches from the people around him. "Harry isn't protected anymore! That means Voldemort can get to him!"

Dumbledore sighed. "I know, Sirius," he said gently. "We're doing all we can."

"Well you're not doing enough," Sirius snapped, and turned on his heel, storming from the kitchen in a fury.

XxX

Harry breathed in deep through his nose and exhaled from his mouth. _In and out_, he told himself. _There is no pain_. _There is no pain_.

He hadn't slept. He couldn't. He was terrified he would dream of Cedric and start yelling, forcing his uncle to make him be quiet again. He couldn't go through that.

_There is no pain_.

He inhaled slowly. The muggles knew he didn't belong with the Dursley's. Harry wasn't sure how, but they had somehow been told he was missing. That's why everyone had been looking at him. Why the man in the shop wouldn't sell them anything until his assistant came in–because he was waiting for the police and didn't want them to leave. Harry could have ran then, could have had someone protect him from his uncle, but his feet had remained glued in place. If there was a chance he was wrong, he would have only made it worse for himself. And he didn't want anyone else getting hurt.

It was bad enough that Uncle Vernon decided Harry had done something to draw attention to them, and he had punished Harry–severely.

Harry didn't know where he was now. No one would tell him. No one would let anyone see him. But he knew he only had one option left for getting help, and it would be nearly impossible without his wand.

He needed to do magic.

But how?


	4. Chapter 4

"Get up," Vernon commanded, slashing at the rope binding Harry's wrists together. He grabbed a hand of unruly hair and yanked the boy to his feet. Harry gasped painfully as he was released, doubling over to ease his aching ribs.

"What are we going to do, Vernon?" Petunia asked from where she stood in front of the window, cautiously peeking out through the closed curtains. "We can't go out there. They all recognize him."

"We're going to figure something out, dear."

"Oh, and imagine what people must think of us now?" she said wearily. "They're going to think we're some kind of kidnappers. No one will ever want to be seen with us."

Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him up. "This is your fault," he snapped. "You've made us out to be some kind of criminals. You need to fix this, boy, and fix it now!"

Harry was wheezing, trying to ignore the spinning in his head. Through the sluggish parts of his thinking, the answer came to him like a dream. He knew how to save himself.

"Change…my hair," he choked out. Aunt Petunia glared over at him.

"What?"

Harry didn't have the strength to explain. He closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't collapse. The sound of the television blaring was ringing through his ears, making it harder for him to focus. "They recognize me," he said. "Change my hair, they won't."

"Is this some kind of trick, boy?" Uncle Vernon demanded, tightening his grip. Harry could barely feel it. He shook his head.

"No trick."

Dudley chuckled heartedly. "Mum, I think you should make him a blond. Can you imagine it? It would look so funny. Wouldn't it, Potter?"

"Sure," Harry muttered.

"What do you think, Petunia?" Vernon asked. There was a brief moment of silence.

"I'll go out and buy the stuff right now."

XxX

"What're you doing out here?"

Sirius looked back from his spot on the sofa, eyeing Remus wearily. His friend looked tired–like he hadn't slept in days. Sirius wasn't sure he had. It seemed like neither of them could find any sense of relief since Harry went missing. They had been running through an endless maze, following directions and signs, but they hadn't reached the end. They hadn't come out anywhere at all.

"I needed a break," Sirius said, turning back toward the fireplace. The flames flickered, shooting off sparks. Remus sank down next to him.

"Me too."

Sirius sighed deeply. He watched the shadows dance along the wall, imaging Lily and James in the photograph from Harry's room. That's all they were now–shadows. Flames that had once burned bright and lit up everything around them.

"Do you think they'd be mad at us?" Sirius asked, and somehow Remus knew exactly what he was talking about.

"No," he said. "I think Lily would be screaming at everyone, kind of like how you've been acting. And James would be out there looking. We wouldn't even know where he was. I bet he wouldn't return for days straight."

Sirius smiled. "That sounds right."

"I keep wondering what Harry must be feeling right now," Remus said softly. Sirius looked over at him.

"I do, too. I wonder if he's scared, or if he's trying to be brave. He always tries to be brave."

"He does," Remus said, breathing out a laugh. "He _is_ brave. But bravery isn't always present in the worst of situations."

"You don't think they'll kill him, do you?" Sirius asked, finally voicing his worst fear. Underneath it all, it wasn't Voldemort or anyone from the magical world he was worried about. He was truly and honestly terrified the Dursley's would kill Harry.

Remus was quiet for a long moment. "Not on purpose," he finally said.

Sirius turned back toward the flames and swallowed the dread rising in his throat.

"That's not exactly the comforting answer I was looking for," he muttered.

"I know."

XxX

Harry's eyes were burning. He ached desperately to rub them, but Aunt Petunia kept pushing his hand away, telling him needed to wait for the bleach to finish processing. Harry wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but he was terrified.

When he was younger, Aunt Petunia had resorted to cutting his hair in an attempt to make it more controllable and proper. She had cut it too short, and Harry hated it so much he had nearly cried. But the next morning, when he woke up, all his hair had grown back. He hadn't understood it then, but it was because he had accidentally done magic.

And he was hoping he could do it again. He hoped he would hate his hair enough that he could will it to change back to normal, and by doing so would set off whatever it was that could tell when he did magic outside of school. Or when someone else, like Dobby, did magic around him.

"Here, it's done," Petunia said, pulling him to his feet. She dragged him into the bathroom and forced him over the sink. Harry bit back a moan. He had felt absolutely ridiculous when Aunt Petunia plastered his hair with the thick substance. And even though Dudley was too busy watching television, and Vernon was out somewhere doing something else, he had felt like the whole world was looking at him.

Petunia turned on the cold water and pushed Harry's head underneath the faucet. She scrubbed at his head harshly, twisting and turning him until she finally decided she had rinsed out all she could.

"Well," she muttered, hanging him a towel. "You certainly look different."

As he dried his hair, he caught sight of his blurry form in the mirror. He didn't need his glasses. His hair was bleach blond, and anyone within a mile's radius of him could have seen that. He felt his cheeks redden.

"You look nasty," Dudley called to him. He rubbed at his hair again.

"Shut up," he whispered hotly, and ducked out painfully to grab his glasses.

"Mum, Harry told me to shut up," Dudley whined. "All I was doing was trying to tell him how he looks."

Harry ignored Petunia chiding him. He looked at his reflection and wanted to cry. His hair was destroyed, a gross mixture of bronze and bleach blonde. He wasn't even sure he was the same person anymore.

He sighed. All he needed to do was get his hair back to normal. Just some kind of magic to tell the Ministry where he was. Or some kind of magic to make the Dursley's believe he was able to do things without his wand.

He just needed something. Desperately.

XxX

"What're you doing?" Aunt Petunia demanded. Harry opened his eyes, looking up at her from where he lay curled on the bed. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, every inch of his body aching and throbbing. He felt hot, like he was lying in front of a fireplace, and both Petunia and Dudley were looking at him in terror.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Stop what you're doing!" Petunia said. "Stop right now or I will tell Vernon!"

Harry pushed himself up painfully, frowning. "I'm not doing anything."

"Your hair," Dudley stuttered, stepping behind his mom in fear.

"What about my hair?" Harry asked in confusion.

"You know exactly what!" Aunt Petunia snapped. "Stop it! Your uncle will be back any moment and he won't like this!"

Harry reached up and tugged on his hair gently. He couldn't see what was happening, so he stumbled slowly to his feet, swaying for a moment. Dudley ducked further behind his mom, letting out a miserable whimper. Harry ignored him.

He made his way to the bathroom and flipped the light on, blinking a few times as his vision came back to him. The tips of his newly blond hair were black, and the color was slowly seeping up, spreading out like a web.

The door opened and Aunt Petunia squealed.

"Vernon!" she cried.

"What is it, dear?"

"He's doing it again! He's…_changing_ his hair!"

"BOY!"

Harry mustered up the strength to smile. He was going to be found.

He hoped it wouldn't be too late.

XxX

"Well, twenty-seven Harry's have been spotted," Tonks said, throwing herself down on the couch between Sirius and Remus. Sirius jumped, startled from where he had nearly fallen asleep.

"Are any of them _our_ Harry?" Remus asked. Tonks shook her head, rubbing her eyes.

"None of them match."

Sirius leaned his elbow against the arm of the sofa and smashed his cheek against his palm. "Thanks for the helpful information," he muttered. Tonks hit him in the arm.

"Don't be so grumpy," she said. "We're all worried."

"Tonks, if you don't feel like being hexed, you probably shouldn't press Sirius's buttons," Remus said, shrugging. "He's about ready to bite all our heads off."

"Isn't he always?" Tonks mumbled. Sirius gave her a glare.

"I'm much too tired to hex you right now. But just imagine I'm cursing you in my mind."

"He's done it!" someone shouted from far away, startling Sirius again.

"Why must everyone be so loud?" he asked bitterly.

"We've found him! Someone get Remus and Sirius! Tonks, where are you?"

"What?" Sirius rose quickly to his feet and rushed into the kitchen, Remus and Tonks close behind. He slammed to a halt, looking around the mess of people.

"Sirius!" Arthur said, hurrying toward him. "He's done it! We found him."

"What?" Sirius couldn't comprehend what was being said. His head was swimming, the voices of everyone blurring into one loud sound.

"Harry used magic," Arthur said. "Or someone used magic around him. But we have his location from the Ministry."

"Let's go," Sirius said, but no one moved. He frowned. "Why is no one going?"

"The Ministry wants to send their own officials," Kingsley said. "They don't want us to go get him."

Sirius felt his breath catch in his throat. "Moony?" he asked quietly, turning to his friend. Remus glanced at him and gave him a quick nod.

"We'll get him," he whispered underneath the voices of everyone else. "Don't worry."


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry, sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to make you wait. Didn't realize I hadn't uploaded the last chapter. Oops!**

**Well, here's the end for you. This really was just a plot-less, little angst story that I wanted to write, so don't analyze it too deeply.**

**Hope you had fun :)**

**Enjoy.**

**.**

**.**

Harry was wheezing in soft breaths, caught somewhere between reality and a dream. The fever coursing through his skin had settled deep in his bones, and he was melting, seeping into a puddle of nothing.

With arms tied above him, rope connected somewhere to the bed frame, he was unable to roll onto his side and shield himself from the pain radiating through his ribs. He tried not to think about it. Someone would be there soon to save him. He knew it. His family knew it. That was the reason they left him in the rusty motel room.

Harry had convinced them that by changing his hair, a number of wizards had his location. His uncle had panicked, punished Harry a little harder than he meant to, and then took Petunia and Dudley and fled without Harry. Harry wasn't sure why his uncle thought leaving him tied up was a good idea, because for someone so scared of magical people, he sure could be dumb.

Harry breathed out a long breath through his nose. There was still blood trickling down the tape over his lips, but it had stopped draining like a fountain, leaving behind a dull throbbing ache.

In his sigh, he almost missed the sound of the lock on the door softly clicking open. His mind's first thought was that Vernon had forgotten something and came back to get it. But a moment later, he felt a cool hand touch his neck, feeling for a pulse because he wasn't wheezing anymore, and a familiar voice called his name.

"Harry?"

The person sounded like they must have thought Harry was unconscious, but he wasn't, and he blinked open his eyes. Something slid onto his face and his vision cleared, allowing him to make out the still-too-blurry form of Remus Lupin.

He smiled and tried to open his mouth, forgetting for a brief second about his gag. The only sound that escaped from his lips was a muffled moan.

"Shh," Remus said. "Hang on. Don't try to talk."

He grabbed the edge of the tape and slowly started peeling it off Harry's mouth. Harry wished he could tell him to just rip it quickly and get it over with, but Remus kept his pace, trying not to hurt Harry, but doing exactly so.

When the tape was gone, Harry smiled again. "I knew you'd find me," he said wearily. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile, his eyes traveling over Harry's injuries as he lifted his wand.

"Of course we did," he said. "You're a very clever boy, Harry Potter. Now hold still while I get your hands free."

Panic washed over Harry in a cold wave. "Wait," he said, squirming away from his teacher. His arm throbbed in protest. "Wait."

"What is it?" Remus asked in concerned.

"You can't – I can't – you can't use magic. I'm already in trouble. I'll get in more trouble. "

"It's okay, Harry. The Ministry knows you're missing. You're not going to get in trouble."

"Wait," Harry said desperately, tears springing into his eyes. The air was catching in his throat again, making it hard to breathe. "That's not–it isn't–if you set me free, Uncle Vernon will be mad. I'll get in more trouble."

Remus rested a hand on his forehead, pushing back some of his damp hair. Harry wasn't sure where the words, or panic, were coming from, but it seemed like nothing else mattered. He didn't want to be in trouble again.

"Your uncle's not here anymore," Remus said. "You're not going to get in trouble."

"Wait," Harry wheezed. Remus's hand disappeared.

"Will you please just let me get you out of this?" he asked.

"I think my a-arm is broken."

There was a brief moment of silence that made Harry open his eyes again, searching Remus's still face.

"Which one?"

"The right one," Harry said, swallowing hard and wheezing out another breath. "I–I–"

"Just relax, Harry," Remus said. "Focus on your breathing. Is your nose broken?"

Harry nodded. He wondered if he should feel worried that nothing but his ribs were hurting anymore.

"Okay. Relax. Take a big, deep breath for me when I say so. I'm going to get your hands free and it might hurt a little. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded again, closing his eyes.

"Okay, breathe nice and deep. Inhale, and–" the pressure around his wrists vanished, sending blood rushing back to his fingers. His broken arm gave a painful throb as he jolted his shoulder.

"Exhale. Good job, Harry. Now, does anything else hurt?"

"My r-ribs," Harry said, swallowing hard. "I c-can't feel–" but he cut off before he could finish, not wanting to worry Remus anymore than he was.

"Are your ribs broken?

"I don't know."

"Is it hard for you to breathe because it hurts, or are you just not able to pull in breaths?" Remus asked. He was lifting Harry's shirt carefully, causing the younger boy to hiss in pain.

"I d-don't k-know," Harry said, and he really didn't, because everything was hot and nothing really made sense.

Remus lowered his shirt without touching him. "That's okay. I don't think I'm going to be able to move you. I'm going to call for Madam Pomfrey."

"No," Harry muttered weakly. "I can stand."

"Harry–" Remus's hands were on his shoulders, trying to stop him from pushing himself up, but Harry did it anyway. "Moving could be dangerous. You could puncture something if your ribs are broken."

"They a-aren't," Harry said, gasping lightly. "I've b-been moving a-around fine. I c-can't stay here. It's n-not safe."

Remus's fingers circled his arm. "Harry, your family can't hurt you anymore. Not with me and Sirius here."

Harry should his head. "That's n-not what I m-meant."

"Oh," Remus said, as if he finally realized the danger Harry was talking about.

"W-where's Sirius?"

"I don't know. He thought he saw your uncle and took off after him. I came up to the room in case you weren't with them. Good thing I did."

Harry nodded and glanced around the room. He tried to remember what he was going to say, but he couldn't. He was finding it harder and harder to grasp onto any kind of thought.

A cool hand rested on his forehead again. "You're burning up, Harry. We have to go. Sirius will meet us there."

"W-where?"

"Hogwarts," Remus said. "I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey."

"Why?"

"Oh, that's not good," Remus muttered. "Okay, can you stand?"

Harry nodded. He wondered briefly why Remus was being so careful to help him to his feet, but then he remembered he was supposed to be feeling a lot of pain and he wasn't. Remus was right. This was definitely not good.

"Ground yourself," Remus said. "Close your eyes. This isn't a very pleasant sensation. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded again and closed his eyes. Remus grabbed hold of his arm and a second later, Harry was overwhelmed with a strong spinning sensation, pressure pushing on every part of his body until it felt like it was going to explode. And then, in another second, the sensation was over, and Harry was slamming into the ground.

His feet gave way underneath him, and the sudden jolt back into his body sent the pain he couldn't feel before coursing back through his limbs. His breath caught in his throat and didn't escape again.

"Harry!"

That voice didn't belong to Remus, but it was distantly familiar to Harry as collapsed into a heap, unable to support himself with his broken arm. He gasped painfully.

"Harry, breathe," the voice said. "MADAM POMFREY!"

Harry finally placed who it was. He peeled open his eyes, but he could only see the ground and Madam Pomfrey's shoes as she rushed toward him.

"S-Sir'us," he choked out.

"I'm here, Harry," Sirius said. "You're going to be all right."

That was the last thing Harry remembered before black took over his vision.

XxX

The sound of soft voices and hand on his forehead pulled Harry from his sleep sometime later and brought him closer to consciousness. He was hot, burning under the blanket that covered him, but didn't have the strength to try and move. Nothing hurt the way it did the last time he could remember.

"When will he wake up?'

"Be patient, Sirius. He's ill and his fever is still quite high. Madam Pomfrey might need to move him to St. Mungo's."

"Why doesn't she just fix him? She's a healer after all."

"You know just as well as I that there's only so much magic can do. Sometimes it's up to the body to take care of the rest."

"But magic should fix his fever."

"Sirius."

"I know, Moony. Sorry."

Harry shifted in his groggy state, searching for relief that wouldn't come. A cool hand rested on his arm.

"Be still, Harry. You're all right."

He wanted to open his mouth, to tell the person that he _wasn't_ all right, but all he could do was let out a low moan.

"Will you fetch Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry didn't wait for her to come. He drifted back into oblivion, away from the heat and misery.

XxX

He woke again when he realized he was talking and someone was trying to calm him down. As soon as he became aware that his lips were moving, they stopped, and whatever sound he was making cut short.

"Harry?" a voice asked tentatively, almost as if the person was afraid he had lost conscious. Harry's eyes opened into blurriness.

"Are you okay?"

He shook his head numbly. "I'm blind."

He heard a chuckle and then something was slid onto his face. His vision cleared around him.

"Let there be light," he muttered, but there wasn't really light. Everything was dim around him, letting him just make out the familiar outlines of the hospital wing. It took a few seconds for everything to come rushing back to him.

"How do you feel?" A handed rested against his sweaty forehead. "Your fever broke a few hours ago. Lucky for you. Poppy was getting ready to move you to St. Mungo's. I hear they have terrible food there."

Harry breathed out a laugh. "That's good to know."

Sirius settled beside him, his face calming into an expression of concern and relief. "Really, how do you feel?"

Harry had to think about it for a moment. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, and his ribs didn't throb or ache the way he expected them to. There was mild soreness in some limbs, but nothing Harry couldn't handle. The sheer presence of Sirius being there already made him feel better.

"I'm all right," he said. "What time is it?"

"I think it's somewhere around three in the morning."

Harry frowned. "Why are you awake?"

"Why are _you_ awake?" Sirius asked. The side of Harry's lip twitched into a smile.

"Do you like answering questions with more questions?"

"Do you?"

"Sirius," Harry growled. Sirius chuckled and ruffled his damp hair.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Rounding on four days."

Harry blinked in surprise, looking around the hospital wing again. When his eyes finally found Sirius, he realized how tired and grungy he looked. Harry was nearly sure he hadn't slept in those last four days, and if he had, it wasn't for long.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Sirius asked gently. Harry shook his head without thinking about what Sirius was asking.

"Have you slept at all, Sirius? You look terrible."

Sirius barked out a laugh and ran a hand over his face. "Says you."

"What?" Harry asked, looking down at himself. "I don't look that bad."

"You did," Sirius said. "Harry, tell me what happened. Why you were leaving us clues. What they did to you."

Images of the last days at the Dursley house flashed in Harry's mind, and he bit back the bile rising in his throat.

"Can we not?" he whispered. "Not right now."

He felt Sirius take hold of his hand. "I know it's hard, but people are asking. The Minister needs to know what happened. And…_I_ need to know. It's killing me, Harry."

Harry closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Sirius's hand tightened around his.

"It wasn't that bad," he started. "I mean, I know it looked bad, but it wasn't that bad."

"They tied you up, Harry," Sirius reminded him softly. Harry shuddered.

"Okay, that part was bad."

"Why did they do it?"

Harry shook his head. "Uncle Vernon didn't want me waking up the house with my nightmares. He…he thought that would quiet me. He only tied my hands up so I wouldn't be able to pull off the tape on my mouth."

"Merlin." Sirius made a noise in the back of his throat. "Did they do it any other times?"

"Not the tape. I mean, besides when Professor Lupin found me. That was the only other time. They tied me up a few times."

Sirius rubbed his thumb over the top of Harry's hand. His voice came out quiet and strained. "How long did they hurt you? Before you sent for help?"

"Not long," Harry said. "I knew I didn't have to put up with it, but I knew Uncle Vernon wouldn't let me send a letter. I snuck one out with Hedwig and got caught. I guess everyone just freaked out and thought you guys were coming, so they ran. I tried to leave messages when I could, but I didn't always know where we were going."

"I know," Sirius said. "But you were very clever."

"Speaking of clever," said Harry, suddenly remembering the muggles looking at him. "How did you get people to notice me on the street?"

Sirius sat up straighter. "You saw them?" he asked excitedly. "Fantastic! Arthur put an alert out on the muggle news, then all these calls started coming in from people who saw you."

"That definitely explains why the man in the store wouldn't sell us anything," Harry muttered to himself. "That's brilliant."

"As are you, kiddo," a new voice spoke, making Harry jump. He looked over as Professor Lupin came into his view, a calm smile masking a tired expression.

"Wow," Harry said. "Is everyone awake at three in the morning?"

"Yes." Remus laid a hand on his forehead. "Do you feel better?"

Harry nodded. "Much."

"Great." Remus brought his hand back and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed. "Then perhaps you can tell me why your family tied you to a bed and left you in a hotel room?"

Harry sighed, dropping his gaze to the ground. Sirius released his grip on him.

"I'm also curious about that," Sirius said. Harry could feel his cheeks burning. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to erase the memories.

"They were scared," he mumbled. "I may have told them wizards knew our location and were coming for me."

Remus laughed lightly. "That's good, Harry, but weren't you worried it would have made them hurt you worse?"

"No." Harry looked up at him. "I mean, they're not stupid all the time. They knew I did magic and that I get in trouble if I do it outside school. Uncle Vernon just accidentally took it a little too far. I think he didn't want me running to get help before they got out of there."

"Don't make excuses for them," Sirius snapped, and then sat back quickly, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get upset. I'm just–"

"Mad?" Harry offered. Sirius gave him a sheepish grin.

"Maybe a little."

"Or a lot," Remus muttered.

"Shut up, Moony."

"Would you like to make me, Padfoot?"

"You know I would, but I'm trying to be here for Harry," Sirius said. "Merlin, have a little decency, why don't you?" He turned to Harry, flashing his eyebrows. "Werewolves. What can you do?"

Harry smiled. "I think I'm okay now," he said, glancing between the two adults on either side of him. The two people closest to family he had. The two people who cared for him in ways no one else ever could.

"I think so, too," Remus said. Sirius threw his hands up.

"I was going to say that! You stole my line."

"Maybe you should have taken the moment quicker."

"Maybe you should shut your face."

"Don't make me hex you in the hospital wing, Sirius."

"I'd like to see you try."

Harry sat back and smiled again. He was with a real family now. One that would never hurt him or neglect him. And maybe they weren't the perfect pair, and they weren't his parents or anyone's parents for that matter, but they were just what Harry needed. What he had always needed.

And he definitely was going to be okay.


End file.
